Chuck vs Beckman's Snowman
by Poa
Summary: A mole tries to direct Fulcrum toward the Intersect; everyone is a suspect and Chuck disappears. If Beckman can't have him, nobody can: she initiates the termination order.
1. Chuck Takes Off

For background reading regarding Chuck's accident and the beach scene, check out Chuck vs. Santa's Reindeer.

Chuck Takes Off

"Chuck!" Ellie called through his door, pounding on the wood with her fist. This was definitely not like Chuck to sleep in so late, especially when his shift was supposed to start like right now, she thought. That sweet guy from the Buy More, John, called to see where Chuck was this morning. Apparently, Chuck had told John last night that he was going to pick up Morgan today, and that John should drive himself in to work. Only Chuck never showed. Ellie tried to turn the door handle; it was locked. Don't panic, she told herself, he is probably sleeping soundly and I am going to wring his neck when I wake him up. She moved quickly through the apartment, stepping outside into the courtyard and made her way to Chuck's window; or, as Chuck and Morgan called it, the Morgan Door. She moved the blinds aside and stepped in through the open window. Chuck's bed was its usual rumpled mess, but there was no Chuck in sight. She spied a note on his dresser, beneath his Buy More identification card and the watch Sarah had given him.

"Ellie," the note began, "I just needed some time to myself for a couple days. I will be back refreshed and ready to accept your sisterly scolding. Tell Sarah I am fine and will see her soon." The note was signed simply, "Chuck."

Well, Ellie thought, Chuck has been working a lot lately, six days a week and staying late nearly every night. And I haven't helped matters by insisting he look for a new job now that he has his degree from Stanford. And he's been trying to develop a relationship with Sarah. Plus the hostage craziness at Buy More. That is quite a bit to handle for a guy who did nothing but work and play video games for five years. I'll have to start easing up on him when he returns, she thought guiltily. Her phone rang again.

"Hey, John," she answered. After explaining the situation to John, she unlocked Chuck's door and headed to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee. Devon was already working, and her shift at the hospital didn't start until noon today, so she decided to spoil herself a little with some hazelnut coffee and a trashy romance novel. She was just starting the third chapter when a knock at the door interrupted her reading.

"Sarah! How nice to see you," said Ellie, "would you like some coffee?"

"No thanks, Ellie, I was looking for Chuck," Sarah said.

Ellie felt a twinge of self-consciousness as she was wearing her old pink robe and a pair of flip flops, while Sarah looked stunning in a blue button-down shirt and a tan skirt. "He went out for awhile to de-stress, he left a note on his dresser if you want to see it," she offered.

Sarah made her way to Chuck's bedroom, frowning as she noted his watch on the dresser. She read the note. Damn it, she thought, where'd he go? You'd think he would have learned his lesson the last time he tried going off grid. Last week, on the beach, she thought all was made right between them. He pushed Mauser out of his head and embraced their cover relationship again, although how much was cover and how much was maybe a bit more than cover was up for debate. Sarah shook her head; she didn't want to get off track thinking about that right now. Chuck seemed happy enough, and he had helped track down a Fulcrum messenger on an overnight stakeout the other day. Maybe she and Casey were expecting too much of him. But that didn't explain why he just up and left. And why was his phone turned off? He must know that she would be worried. She made a hurried goodbye to Ellie and headed for Castle to meet Casey.

"Where the hell is he?" Casey demanded as Sarah came down the steps leading into Castle.

"Good morning to you, too," she replied, pushing past him and looking at the computer. "Anything, yet?"

"He didn't take the Herder, and his locator is still in the apartment, so I have jack," answered Casey.

"What about your surveillance footage?"

Casey leaned over and typed on the keyboard. "This is all there is." The camera view was from a small hole in Chuck's wall; the hole was camouflaged by the background coloring of a Tron poster. Chuck was aware of the surveillance; the camouflage was used to keep Chuck's family and friends from noticing. Casey advanced the film to 03:17. The footage contained sound and visual.

Sarah sat down and watched as Chuck's bedroom came into focus. Chuck's cell phone rang, and he rolled over to pick it up from the nightstand. He mumbled, "yeah" into the phone. A moment later, he sat up in bed and his eyes were wide open. "Now?" he asked. "But what about…?" He was cut off by the caller and listened intently. He glanced around the room. "Sure…uh, Morgan, see you in the morning." He hung up the phone, grabbed some clothes and went out the bedroom door. A few minutes later, he reentered the bedroom, locked the door behind him, and rummaged quietly in his closet, pulling out a backpack. He stuffed a few clothes into it, and then wrote a note. He took off his watch and placed it on top of the note with his ID. He looked directly into the camera for a moment, and then he took his wallet and cell phone and stepped out the Morgan Door.

"That's it," said Casey, typing on the keypad to stop the video at 03:28. "I picked up on the phone ringing, and listened in to what Chuck said, but I figured it was just his monkey-friend on the other end." Casey shrugged. "I didn't check the visual until I realized that he was missing."

Sarah forced the lump in her throat back down. Something was terribly wrong. Why didn't Chuck try to contact her? Why did he leave in the first place? Who called him? She banged her fist on the table in frustration.

"I tried to trace the call to his phone, it was scrambled and coded beyond recognition," said Casey. "I waited for you before calling Beckman." He punched a few more keys and General Beckman's face appeared on the monitor with a surly expression.

"Agents Casey and Walker, good morning."

"General," Sarah began.

"Let me interrupt," said Beckman, "Chuck is missing and you have no idea where he is."

"What's going on?" asked Sarah, sharing a puzzled look with Casey.

"Chuck has been moved to an undisclosed location pending an investigation."

Oh, God, thought Sarah, they've taken him to the bunker. She managed to keep her voice from shaking as she asked, "He's been taken underground?"

"Almost, he is scheduled to meet an agent at 10:00am this morning, and then he will be brought to the bunker. As it almost ten now, I should hear confirmation shortly."

"But why the cloak and dagger stuff, General? I could have brought him to the bunker myself," asked Casey, keeping his eyes on the screen before him. He wanted the General to focus on him, and not on Walker, who was showing signs of being upset.

"We were finally able to crack the coded messages in the possession of the Fulcrum agent you apprehended two days ago. One of the messages pertained to the acquirement of CIB, a piece of data to be found at a Los Angeles Buy More electronics store."

Sarah spoke softly, "Charles Irving Bartowski."

"Exactly," said Beckman. "You both assured me that Fulcrum would not be able to identify Chuck as a person of interest after the hostage situation, yet here is this message."

"General," began Casey, "Any Fulcrum agent aware of the Intersect's identity was eliminated that night."

"Precisely; this means that we have a very serious leak in our organization. Few people are aware of Chuck's status as the Intersect, and we need to eliminate each as the culprit." Beckman turned to listen to someone off camera. "Just a moment." She stepped out of view.

"Are we being accused?" Sarah asked Casey incredulously.

"Sounds like it," he grumbled back.

Beckman reappeared on screen. "It seems that the Intersect failed to meet his contact."

Casey looked at Sarah and noted the subtle tones of concern in her eyes. "What are our orders, General?"

"For now, you will remain where you are and maintain your covers. I will contact you later with more information. Do nothing."

Like hell we will, thought Casey, as he turned off the computer.


	2. Turkey Jerky

Turkey Jerky

Sarah paced the floor. "Like hell we will," she said. This is way, way out of control, she thought. And she was supposed to sit by while Chuck was in danger? She stopped pacing and headed up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Casey asked.

"I'll talk to Ellie; see if Chuck has some favorite place he might use for hiding." She looked at Casey expectantly.

"I'll start with his monkey-friend."

Sarah nodded. "I know it isn't you, Casey."

"And I know it isn't you, Walker."

Sarah smiled to herself as she headed out the door. She felt better knowing Casey was going to help. Together, they had the best chance for finding Chuck quickly. Time was crucial, because as much as she hated to admit it, Chuck did have a knack for getting himself into trouble.

Casey changed out of his Buy More uniform before heading to the store. He also made sure he had extra clips for his gun. If Beckman suspected him, she might send an agent or two to tail him, or maybe even try to apprehend him. If so, he planned to be evasive, at least until Chuck was found. He tried to hold back the thin tendril of worry creeping up from the back of his mind. Maybe he had been around Chuck too much, and some of Chuck's lady feelings were finally rubbing off. Stay focused, he told himself; Chuck is only an asset. Losing Chuck was like losing a piece of software, albeit a very valuable piece of software. Satisfied that he had quelled his unexpected emotional response, Casey gathered up the laptop and headed for the Buy More.

It only took Sarah fifteen minutes to reach Ellie and Awesome's apartment. Despite reminding herself to stay calm, she practically ran to the apartment door. Thankfully, Ellie was still home when Sarah knocked.

"Hi Sarah, this is a surprise," said Ellie, who was wishing for the second time this morning that she wasn't wearing her old robe. She made a mental note to throw it out later.

"Yeah, well, I was wondering if you had heard from Chuck," Sarah said, walking into the living room and sitting down.

"Nope." Ellie sat down in the easy chair opposite Sarah. "Is there a problem?"

"Not really," said Sarah. "It's just that I really needed to get a hold of him. I think, uh… I think I might be part of the reason why he left, and it was just a misunderstanding, and I was hoping you might know of some places he would stay." Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat; lying to Ellie was becoming more difficult lately.

Ellie thought for a moment. "Actually, he's never gone for more than one night, and that's when he stays over with you." She shrugged. "I don't know where he could be, unless he's with Morgan somewhere."

"Well, thanks any…," Sarah began.

"Wait a minute," said Ellie. "This is a long shot, but when Chuck was in his teens, after our dad disappeared, Chuck would go camping once in a while."

Sarah held back a laugh. "Camping!?"

"I know, I know," said Ellie. "It's hard to imagine our Chuck in the wild." She laughed. "But really, he would stay in a cabin and hole up with his video games and a bag of turkey jerky for a weekend." She smiled, remembering how she worried about him choking on a piece of jerky all alone in some remote cabin. "He only went a few times, when he was really upset about something. Mostly, I think he went just to escape our family drama for a while."

"Was there a particular cabin he would visit?" asked Sarah.

"No, he used different ones, but they weren't too far from the city, and of course, they had to have electricity for his games."

"Thanks, Ellie, sorry to disturb you again."

Sarah got into her car and drove toward the Orange Orange. She waited impatiently at a traffic light and rubbed her eyes tiredly. It was taking more effort than she expected to keep her heart from racing. Her talk with Chuck on the beach after the hostage crisis invaded her thoughts. She knew how he felt about her; the look in his eyes as he returned the bracelet said it all. She had always thought of Chuck as a sweet, generous guy, but now she wasn't sure what she felt. Certainly, Chuck was the best friend she ever had. She felt closer to him than she had to anyone else before. But lately, her heart skipped a little when she kissed him as part of their cover. And she felt like her day hadn't really started until she saw him smile at her. She had even made up a few flimsy excuses to pay him a visit at the Buy More.

Sarah shook her head angrily as the light turned green, and she stepped on the gas pedal a bit too heavily; the tires squealed as the car moved forward. She shouldn't be thinking like this, Chuck was her asset. Whatever feelings she had for Chuck didn't matter now; what mattered was finding Chuck. She hoped Casey was having better luck.


	3. Safety First

Safety First

Casey entered Buy More and immediately wished he hadn't. Big Mike was pacing in front of a line of employees, each wearing an orange vest with reflective ribbing. As Casey turned to exit, Big Mike shouted at him: "John Casey, get over here!"

Casey slowly faced Big Mike. "I'm off this afternoon."

"That doesn't matter, you're here now. Put this on and get in line," said Big Mike, reaching into a box and throwing an orange vest at Casey. Big Mike was sporting a large orange vest and a white construction helmet. He glanced at the clipboard in his hand and placed a checkmark next to Casey's name. "As you are aware," he began in his booming voice, "an employee had a very, very minor accident recently."

Morgan interrupted, "You mean when Chuck got clocked by Jeff and fell into a coma?"

"Not true!" protested Jeff. "It was Chuck's fault; he ran into that reindeer!"

"Shut up, the both of you," shouted Big Mike. In a calmer voice, he continued, "First, Chuck did not fall into a coma. Second, it was everybody's fault, which is why you are standing here today. After reading the report, Corporate decided that a few safety courses were in order. We are going to start today with the proper use of ladders."

Casey rolled his eyes. Anna stood next to him, snapping her gum with her arms folded across her chest. "This should be good," she whispered to herself.

The group of employees followed Big Mike to a ladder sitting in the stock aisle. Big Mike looked at his clipboard. "Patel and Casey, up front!"

Lester and Casey approached the ladder. Lester gave Casey a nervous smile and Casey growled at him.

"Now," said Big Mike, "whenever an employee uses a ladder, they must use the buddy system. One person holds the ladder steady while the other climbs. Patel, you hold the ladder while Casey retrieves a box from the top shelf."

Casey began climbing the ladder quickly. Jeff approached Lester and said, "Don't drop him, Lester."

"Shut up Jeff! At least I didn't give Chuck a coma," Lester sneered.

"Not true!" shouted Jeff, shoving Lester against the ladder. The ladder wobbled and Casey, who had picked up the heavy box, tried to shift his weight to steady the ladder. Lester shoved Jeff back, and then Jeff charged Lester. Lester ducked and Jeff hit the ladder, causing it to skitter out from under Casey. Casey let go of the box and made a desperate grab for the shelf, but he was too late. He fell to the floor, landing on his ass. The box landed next to him with a loud crash.

The store was quiet for a moment as the employees looked at Casey's face, which reddened with anger. Casey jumped to his feet and grabbed the front of Lester's shirt, slamming him against a wall. He raised a fist and exclaimed, "Why you little twerp! I outta…" Lester closed his eyes and whimpered.

Big Mike put a hand on Casey's shoulder. "Well, that's enough for today people. Get back to work!" Several employees snickered as they dispersed.

Lester squirmed out of Casey's hold and slithered to the floor as Casey turned to face Big Mike. "Uh, Casey," Big Mike stammered, "you did a great job. You can enjoy the rest of your afternoon off." Casey glared at Big Mike and walked away, spying Morgan, who was heading for the break room.

The laughing stopped abruptly as Casey entered the room. Morgan, Anna, Skip, Jeff and Lester all looked up as Casey entered.

"Grimes, we need to talk," said Casey. The other employees made a beeline for the door and left. Casey rubbed his posterior absently as he approached Morgan.

"Maybe you should put some ice on that," quipped Morgan with a hesitant smile.

Casey took off his vest and threw it in the corner. He took a deep breath. Stay calm, he reminded himself, this monkey-boy might know where Chuck is. "Did Chuck call you this morning?" he asked.

"Actually no," said Morgan. "He was supposed to pick me up but never showed so I used my pedal power."

"Chuck left a note saying he would be gone a couple of days, any idea where he might hole up?" asked Casey.

Morgan thought for a moment. "No, wow, he hasn't done this in years."

"So he's done this before?"

"Yeah, when were in high school, sometimes he went to a cabin somewhere to be alone. He was usually depressed about his dad or something. Why do you need him?"

"I don't," said Casey. "Sarah asked me if I could find out where he went so she could talk to him. I could care less about it."

"Oh, well, if you see Sarah again, tell her I said hi," said Morgan, making his way out the break room door.

Damn it, thought Casey. All this for nothing. Bartowski better have a good reason for running or I'm gonna kill him! Casey walked quickly through the store, ignoring the hushed conversations and occasional snickers as he passed. Maybe Walker had better luck, he thought.


	4. 582

$582

_Earlier that morning, 03:17…_

Chuck's cell phone burred annoyingly into his dreamless sleep. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"Chuck, this is General Beckman, code word Snowman."

He sat up in bed, his heart thumping in his chest and his mind racing. "Now?" he asked.

"Yes, there has been a leak and I believe that Fulcrum may have identified you as the Intersect. You are to proceed as we discussed," said Beckman.

"But what about…?" Chuck began. Chuck's first thought was to call Sarah.

"Listen carefully," Beckman interrupted him. "You and your family are in danger. You must proceed as we discussed earlier. I will communicate with your handlers. You are not to call anyone, and you are to turn your phone off until further instructed by your contact. You are to arrange your own ground transportation to the beta site and arrive there at 10:00am. Bringing the contact to you is too risky at this point. You are to approach the contact and ask for the code word. Additionally, the contact is someone familiar to you, so there should be no question of your safety. You are to travel with the contact to Washington, where I will debrief you. Undoubtedly, someone is listening to your words right now, so pretend you are speaking to a friend, turn off your phone, and follow my orders, Chuck. Your family's safety may depend on it." _Click_.

Chuck spoke into the dead phone: "Sure…uh, Morgan, see you in the morning." He felt panic creeping into his mind and his stomach churned as he turned off his phone. This is it, he thought. He was going to be bunkerized forever, never seeing Ellie or his friends again. If only he had more time, or if he could just say goodbye to Ellie. He shut those thoughts from his mind as he searched for his clothes. He couldn't be selfish; for all he knew, Fulcrum was closing in on him now, and if they found him here, Ellie and Awesome would probably be killed. He hurried into the bathroom to change. On his way out, he opened Ellie's door a crack and watched her sleeping in Devon's arms for a moment. He blinked back tears furiously as he quietly shut the door and returned to his bedroom.

Chuck locked the door behind him and searched for his bag in the closet. He gathered a few belongings and shoved them into the bag. He had to say something, he couldn't just disappear. He grabbed a pad of paper and wrote while sitting on his bed. Walking over to the dresser, he placed Ellie's note on top, using his ID badge as a paperweight. He hesitated, torn by indecision, and then finally took off his watch and placed it on top of the note, pointedly looking at the hidden camera. He was taking a chance, but he felt certain that only Casey or Sarah would notice when they reviewed the camera footage. Taking his cell phone and wallet, Chuck took one last look at his room before exiting via the Morgan Door.

Once outside, panic took hold and he found himself trotting toward the nearest bus stop. He pulled the worn schedule out of his wallet, looking furtively at his dark surroundings. The streets were nearly deserted. First bus didn't arrive until 04:45, and he didn't want to wait around that long. Trying to look like a normal guy walking in the middle of night, he strode briskly along, looking for a pay phone, which turned out to be quite a challenge. Twenty minutes later, he had located a phone and called for a taxi. He leaned against the shadowed side of the gas station to wait.

He tried to focus on what he was going to do. There were two choices: follow Beckman's orders, or, follow his own plan for this event. He had $582 in his wallet, stashed for an emergency of this type. Casey told him a while back that cash was the way to go if you were trying to stay off the radar. Chuck took the advice to heart, especially after his private conversation with Beckman last week. He had another $2000 in the bank, but he knew better than to try using his ATM card. He ran his hands through his hair and then ducked as headlights came into view. A truck rumbled past. He was a nervous wreck, ducking shadows and jumping at every sound. If only his heart would stop thumping so loudly in his chest he might be able to think more clearly. Was he really going to do this? He withdrew into the shadows as another pair of lights approached. This time it was the taxi, and Chuck got in.

"Where to?" asked the cab driver, an older man with a full gray beard.

Chuck struggled with indecision. He could live out his life in safety within the Bunker, or he could run and take his chances on his own terms. "Ferndale, please," said Chuck, finally making his decision.

"That's a long drive," said the driver.

"Yeah," said Chuck, pulling out his wallet and handing the driver some bills.

"It's a nice day for a drive," commented the driver, slipping the bills into his lockbox.

This was a turning point for Chuck; the beta location was due south of here, Ferndale was northeast. He swallowed hard, wondering if he would be labeled a traitor for not following orders. Would Casey come after him? And what would Sarah think of him? He licked his lips and stared out the window into the darkness, trying not to think about the consequences. He wondered if Casey and Sarah would notice his clue. When Beckman talked to him just after the hostage crisis, he knew that he had to have some way of communicating his decision to his handlers; no matter what Beckman suspected, he would never believe that either of them would betray him. Well, it didn't matter now; either they would find it or not, he had made his choice regardless. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool windowpane, wishing desperately this was only a crazy dream.


	5. Twilight

Twilight

Casey and Sarah met back at Castle.

"Any luck?" asked Sarah hopefully.

"No, all I got is a sore ass and when this is over, I'm gonna kill those Buy More morons."

Sarah crinkled her eyes questioningly, but decided not to pursue it. She pressed some keys on the keyboard and General Beckman appeared on the screen.

"Agents Casey and Walker," she began. "I have spoken with Chuck's contact, and, according to our latest intel, it seems unlikely that he has fallen into Fulcrum hands at this point. We have to assume that Chuck simply ran away." She took a breath. "However, that doesn't mean Fulcrum won't track him down. Chuck has made that job easier by disregarding my orders."

Sarah interjected, "General, I'm sure Chuck has a very good reason for running, maybe he spotted a Fulcrum agent, or maybe he felt his contact was compromised."

"Perhaps," said Beckman. "I am reassigning both of you. You are to locate Chuck and keep him secure until the new team arrives; they will be responsible for his transport to Washington."

"A new team?" asked Casey, frowning and giving Sarah a sideways glance.

"Obviously you are not able to keep Chuck under control, so a new team will be assigned to handle him once he is found. At any rate, it is too dangerous for Chuck to live on the outside, so we are bringing him in, permanently. Agents Cole and Watson have already determined that Chuck took a taxi early this morning to a town called Ferndale, I suggest that you meet them there. Your personal knowledge of the asset may be of some benefit to them." The screen went blank.

"Damn it," said Sarah. "This is not happening." She activated the computer and loaded the video from Chuck's apartment. "Something must have spooked him."

Casey's phone rang and he walked away, speaking in a hushed tone while Sarah watched the camera footage of Chuck leaving. After writing the note, it was as if he looked right at her, and she felt a twinge of worry and fear. It was one thing for him to run; it was another to not let her know about it. Suddenly, she realized that something was off, it was that one shot of him looking right at her, and she reversed the last few minutes of video.

"Go ahead," said Casey in a low voice.

"Agent Casey," said Beckman. "I have an additional order for you. It has been determined that the Intersect is no longer a viable asset. You are to kill the Intersect at the earliest opportunity."

Casey swallowed hard. "But what about the bunker," he began.

"The Intersect would not function properly in isolation, and we can no longer guarantee his safety on the outside, especially since he disregards orders and apparently has no problem evading his handlers," she said pointedly. "Are you able to follow your orders, Agent Casey?"

"Yes, General." Casey stole another glance at Sarah. He suddenly seemed very aware of the weight of his gun as he walked over to her. He was supposed to kill Chuck. It wasn't the first time; he came very close to killing Chuck when the beta Intersect was created. It felt different this time, somehow. The three of them had been more of team lately, and he wasn't blind, Chuck looked up to him. Casey would never admit this to anyone, but his relationship with Chuck was coming very close to what could only be defined as friendship. Could he kill Chuck? Casey thought yes, because if he didn't, the General would only send someone else, and that could mean a more painful ending for Chuck. Nodding his head to himself, Casey approached Sarah.

"Where's Chuck's watch?" she asked.

"In the top drawer, with his note," said Casey. "Why?"

"Look at this," she said, playing the video in slow motion. "Chuck puts his watch down, looks directly at the hidden camera, and then this."

Casey leaned in closer and watched as Chuck stared directly at the camera, then flicked his eyes onto the watch and then back again. It was a subtle hint, to be sure, but Casey felt certain it was a hint as opposed to a random glance. After all, Chuck knew the camera was there and he knew that they would examine the footage.

Sarah already had the watch in hand. She examined it closely but saw nothing unusual. There was a tiny mark on the back, where the cover merged with the casing. She withdrew a knife from her ankle strap and pried off the back. On the inside of the cover, etched in tiny characters, was a list of numbers arranged vertically: 80, 9, 29. She showed it to Casey.

"Locker com," said Casey. They looked at each other and Casey headed up a narrow set of steps leading to a darkened tunnel. "Be right back," he said. He felt slightly hopeful as he made his way to the Buy More break room. Once he reached the secret panel located behind the lockers, he checked a tiny monitor attached to the wall: the camera showed the interior of the room, which was currently empty. He opened the panel and closed it quickly behind him, moving to Chuck's locker. He dialed in the combination and opened it. Chuck's locker was a mess, full of video games, DVDs, an extra tie, a package of Twinkies, and strangely, a worn paperback copy of Twilight. Casey grunted in frustration. He ran his hand along the interior walls of the locker, saying "Bingo" softly under his breath when he felt the envelope taped to the ceiling of the locker. The envelope contained a disc. Hearing voices approach, he quickly opened the secret panel and headed back to Castle.


	6. LA Traffic

L.A. Traffic

Upon his return to Castle, Casey went to the computer and placed the disc into the hard drive. Without a word, he and Sarah sat in front of the computer screen and watched as Chuck came into focus. He was backing up, apparently after having turned on the camera. Off screen, a familiar voice called out, "You all set, buddy?"

Chuck turned his head. "All set, thanks."

"Monkey-boy," Casey muttered under his breath, watching as Chuck sat down on an old blue couch in what appeared to be a basement.

"What's that?" asked Sarah.

"He made this video just last week; he had me stop at Morgan's house for about an hour, said he needed to review some Call of Duty strategy," said Casey. "It was just after work, I figured I'd watch the house from the herder." He's improving, thought Casey to himself. He had no idea Chuck had ulterior motives that night.

They returned their attention to the screen, listening as Chuck nervously cleared his throat. "Well," he started, "I guess you're probably surprised to see me here." He smiled quickly. "First, Casey, let me just say that I didn't mean to piss you off. I know you could probably wring my neck right now, or maybe something more inventive." He flashed another quick, nervous smile. "Oh, and Sarah, I am so sorry about all of this, all I can do is ask that you forgive me in time." Chuck lowered his eyes to the floor for a moment.

"Okay, I'm just going to get to the point. If you are watching this, I am probably missing or dead. Hopefully I'm just missing. A week or so ago, General Beckman called me on my cell. She was worried about Fulcrum finding me, especially since we were on the trail of that Fulcrum messenger. She said that anyone could be Fulcrum," Chuck paused and took a deep breath and looked off to the side, "including the both of you." He returned his eyes forward. "I don't believe it at all, I don't know how Beckman could even think that." He fumbled with his tie. "I mean, you guys are more than my handlers, you both should know that by now. We are a team, right? And Casey, I know we've had our differences…" Chuck paused again. "I just know that you guys are not Fulcrum," he said, nodding his head firmly. "So, Beckman wanted me to be prepared to enter the bunker. We set up a code word and she said that I was to follow her orders when the time came. Then, I had a problem." He coughed and thought for a moment. "I have decided that I do not want to live out my life in a bunker. I know what you're thinking, that I couldn't make a decision if my life depended on it. Well, my life depends on it and I've made my decision, for better or worse."

Sarah looked at Casey in amazement. "I can't believe this," she said.

Casey grunted in response as they continued watching the rest of the video.

"I am running from the CIA and the NSA and who knows what else," Chuck continued. "I have a short-term plan, which is to avoid capture until I can talk to Bryce. My long-term plan will depend on my conversation with Bryce. I don't want either of you getting more involved than you have to, so I'm not going into details. I do, however, need a favor, a big, you-might-get-into-trouble favor. I need you guys to hook me up with Bryce. I want you to contact him, and have him ready to meet me in two days. I will call you, Casey, and give you my location. All I ask is that you let Bryce know, and maybe give him a head start before you come for me. Of course, I am assuming that you are viewing this within a day or two of my disappearance." Chuck ran his hands over his face and sighed. "That's it, I guess. I trust you both, I know I haven't always, but I do now. All I can ask is that you trust me. I know what I'm doing, and I hope that I can make you understand someday. Take care of yourselves." Chuck stood and stretched an arm toward the camera and then stopped. "Oh, and drive safe," he added with a small smile. The screen went blank.

Sarah sat still, stunned.

Casey reached over and retrieved the disc from the hard drive. He snapped the disc in half and Sarah looked up at him, not believing what he did.

"We have to report, this," said Casey.

"I know," she replied, looking at the broken pieces of the disc on the desk. Casey swept the pieces into the trash container. He typed on the keyboard, erasing the file of Chuck's video. Then he entered the contact number for Beckman.

"Agents Casey and Walker, I'm surprised you haven't left already," Beckman said with a frown.

"We received a message from Chuck," said Casey. "He will call me in two days with his location. In exchange, he wants Bryce Larkin to bring him in."

Beckman furrowed her brows in thought. "Fine, I will attempt to contact Agent Larkin. In the meantime, proceed with your orders, Agent Casey."

"Roger that," said Casey, turning off the computer.

As Sarah gathered her travel bag and checked her gun, she shook her head in wonder at what Chuck was doing. He was running. It was the one thing that she never thought he would do. She was so filled with fear for him she could barely think straight. Obviously Casey was bothered as well; he destroyed the video and told Beckman that Chuck wanted Bryce to take him in. Not a complete lie; but definitely not the complete truth, either. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, focusing on slowing her thoughts. If she was going to get Chuck out of this mess, she needed to think clearly. What did he want with Bryce? And what was he doing in Ferndale of all places? Nothing but questions and no answers in sight. She followed Casey outside to her car and got in on the driver's side. Ferndale was only three hours away, which meant they could be there in two.

Casey got in beside Sarah, immersed in his own thoughts. He had to hand it to Chuck; the kid had guts. He wasn't sure why he told Beckman that Chuck wanted Larkin to take him in. He just couldn't admit that Chuck was blatantly disobeying the general's orders; it didn't bode well for Casey, considering his new mission to kill Chuck. He had a feeling this was going to be the toughest assignment he had ever taken. He was glad Sarah was driving; not only would they get there faster, but it gave him time to think about how he was going to handle this assignment and not reveal it to her. She was his partner now, and he felt like keeping Beckman's order to himself was a betrayal of sorts, but he also knew that Sarah would very likely try to stop him. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. Closing his eyes, he feigned sleep as Sarah headed into the L.A. traffic.


	7. Super Spy

Super Spy

The taxi dropped Chuck off three miles north of Ferndale on Washington, a secondary road that meandered through the rolling, tree-covered hills of Eldorado National Forest. Ferndale was the last of the larger towns as you entered the forest. A series of dirt roads branched off Washington, leading to small villages, campgrounds, and clusters of overgrown trailers and clapboard houses. The temperature was dropping, and the sun disappeared for longer periods of time as gray clouds gathered and swirled. Chuck shivered, suddenly wishing he had brought more than his Buy More jacket. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking. Traffic was light this time of year; tourists were still reeling from the holiday hustle and bustle, and the locals tended to hole up in their homes, sitting in front of wood-burning fireplaces.

A car approached, and Chuck stuck out his thumb and smiled hopefully as the vehicle passed; it did not stop for him. Chuck readjusted his pack and began walking more quickly, trying to stay warm. The air smelled of snow, and he worried that maybe he would simply be found along the roadside, frozen to death. Well, at least Big Mike might get some publicity out of it. Chuck smiled inwardly at his flair for the dramatic and turned around as another vehicle approached. This time he was fortunate; a dark green Silverado stopped along side of Chuck and the driver, a man in his forties dressed in camouflage, leaned over and opened the passenger door.

"Need a lift?" the driver asked.

"Sure," said Chuck, praying that the man was not the axe murderer Ellie had always warned him about.

"I'm Jake," the man said, pulling the truck back onto the road.

"Chuck," Chuck replied, and then he kicked himself mentally. He wasn't supposed to use his real name; he could imagine Casey's scoffing grunt. Well, he thought, there's goes my career as a super spy, over before it began.

The driver glanced at Chuck's pack. "Traveling light for a camper," he commented.

"Yeah, I'm meeting a friend who has a cabin up here. I like to hike but it turned colder than I expected."

"People often underestimate the weather here, especially this time of year. Most people think of California as row after row of sunny beaches. So, where can I drop you?"

"Actually, if you're going far enough, I was hoping you could take me as far as Rosemont. I'll hike out to the cabin from there."

"Ayup," the man replied, "be there in twenty minutes."

Chuck sighed and watched the blur of trees outside his window. Part of him wanted to call Sarah and tell her to come get him. Heck, he would even settle for Casey right now. He had never before experienced such a profound feeling of being alone. He held his numb hands in front of the truck's heater vent, and his stomach rumbled noisily.

"Say, I've got a bag of homemade turkey jerky in the glove box, there. Help yourself."

Chuck gave the man a shy smile and said, "Thanks, I forgot to pack a lunch." Chuck opened the glove box and pulled out a zippered bag of jerky. "You want some?" he asked, chewing his first piece.

"Nah, I got more at home, you can take it all with you, share it with your friend."

"It's delicious." Chuck smiled and leaned back in his seat. Things don't seem quite as bad when you have turkey jerky. Maybe it was a good omen.

Just outside of Rosemont, Chuck directed Jake to stop; he got out and thanked the man, who refused Chuck's offer of money. Chuck waved as he drove away, and then he frowned as he contemplated the quiet forest around him. He hadn't been here in years, and worried about whether or not the dirt track leading off the highway was the correct one. He had only stayed at this isolated cabin once. It was just after a particularly loud argument with his dad; Chuck left in a huff, vowing to never return. He lasted a mere two days in the wilds and then returned home to an apologetic father and a very angry Ellie.

Chuck shook his head and forced the unexpected memories of his father from his mind. He set off along the dirt track, which wove between the large evergreens, rising over a steep hill. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and squinted in the dimness. The sun had gone behind the clouds and the trees blocked most of the remaining daylight. He nearly trotted up the hill, anxious to reach the cabin before the sun set. He spotted the cabin from the top of the hill, nestled in among the trees just off to the side of the dirt track. The cabin was dark brown, and, as Chuck approached, he noted that the paint was peeling off in long curls. The small windows were dirty and it was obvious that it had been abandoned for some time, probably years. Chuck knocked on the padlocked door and called out, "Anyone home?"

He was answered by the whistling of wind in the treetops above him. They swayed ominously, and Chuck shivered. The cabin suddenly seemed creepy. Don't freak out, he told himself, moving along the wooden plank porch to the largest window. He tried to peer in, but the window was too dirty and the light too dim to see anything. It was a simple design, with a latch lock. He pressed against the pane and lifted, hoping that the broken latch had never been fixed. The window frame groaned as he lifted, and the glass slid upward about ten inches and then stopped. He stooped low and strained to open the window farther, but it was stuck solid. Undeterred, Chuck tossed his backpack into the cabin. He stuck his head and arm inside, using the penlight attached to his key chain to examine the room. A pair of mice scurried by, startling him for a moment. His light barely illuminated the area immediately surrounding the window; it did not penetrate the darkness beyond. Why didn't he remember to bring a flashlight, he scolded himself. Super spy, indeed. He placed his hands on the bottom of the window frame and heaved himself headfirst into the cabin, wriggling his body through the narrow opening.

Chuck landed in a heap on the cold wooden floor and stood up quickly, imagining that someone or something was nearby, ready to attack. His penlight flickered as his shaky hand guided the light around the room, which turned out to be empty. The cabin was small, consisting of one room that doubled as living area and bedroom, a sideboard area with cabinets for a kitchen, and a cubby hole off to one side that functioned as a bathroom. The toilet was a bucket, meant to be emptied in the hand-dug latrine out back. There were no sinks or electrical outlets. This cabin served as an overnight place for hunters and the occasional teenaged-boy seeking solitude. Chuck managed to close the window and then shuffled his feet loudly as he made his way over to the cabinets, hoping to scare off any more furry visitors. He found matches and candles and did not hesitate to light several, placing them on the countertops and tables around the small room. He sat on the worn, dusty couch and contemplated the fireplace, which was blackened with soot. He was going to be in for a cold night, he thought. No way was he going to try lighting a fire in that thing; he would probably die of smoke poisoning in his sleep. He decided that he would call Casey tomorrow; he didn't want to stay there any longer than was necessary. With that thought, he lay down on the couch and covered himself with an old blanket, falling into an exhausted, restless sleep.


	8. Coffee

Coffee

Upon their arrival in Ferndale, Sarah and Casey met with Agents Cole and Watson at Vickie's Deli, a small restaurant located within a short row of rundown buildings. Pete Cole was a large man dressed in a black suit and tie, looking decidedly out of place sitting at one of the booths along the back wall of the restaurant. He had just finished a cigarette and was pulling another from his jacket pocket; he returned it as Casey and Sarah approached. Sitting across from him and wearing a bulky gray sweater with jeans was Tyler Watson, who gave Casey a nod as Casey and Sarah sat down to join them.

"Long time, Casey," Watson said. He flicked his eyes to Sarah. "I'm surprised to see you working with a partner, and a CIA one at that," he continued.

"Not by choice," said Casey, "but it seems to be working out," he added.

Watson raised his eyebrows at Casey's comment but said nothing. A waitress took their orders for coffee, and the group waited until it was served before speaking again.

Sarah found herself distracted by Cole, who was tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. He wore a gold ring with inlaid diamonds. She found it odd that he would wear something so memorable; generally agents liked to blend in.

Cole cleared his throat. "So, you've lost an asset and now we have to help you clean up the mess."

Sarah noticed that Casey became tense and decided to take charge of the conversation. She smiled at Cole. "Our asset is hardly lost, merely… misguided. We've had a security breach and he doesn't know who to trust. General Beckman thought that we might retrieve him faster with a little extra help." She turned toward Watson. "Have you made any progress?"

"Actually, he may be more competent than I thought at first, I mean, really, taking a taxi is like a dead giveaway. But now he seems to have dropped off the grid. We've questioned most of the people here in town and no one has seen him." Watson pulled out a map of the area. "I suggest we break up and start searching. There are five small towns, if they can be called that, within fifty miles of here." He paused. "It's more difficult, though, because this area is dotted with campgrounds and hunting cabins. If he is out there, it could take quite a while to locate him. Hopefully, he left some clue of his travel in one of the smaller towns. At any rate, someone is bound to remember a guy traveling through here this time of year."

"What about transportation?" asked Casey, looking over the map.

"There's no bus or taxi service here. If he's riding, he probably hitchhiked. People are more leery of hitchhikers these days, though, so maybe he's just walking."

"Okay," Sarah said. "So I'll take Homestead, Agent Watson can take Lake Platte, and Agent Cole can take Saranga. Since Saranga is near Billings, I assume you will have no difficulty in checking out both places, will you Agent Cole?"

Cole simply looked at her.

"Fine, and Casey, why don't you check out Rosemont? We can travel tonight, get a layout of the area, and start canvassing in the morning. If anyone finds something we can keep in touch on our cells. Do you have extra maps?" Casey's phone rang, and while the others looked over the maps, he stood up and walked toward the exit.

"Casey."

"Agent Casey, I'd like an update, please," said General Beckman.

"We are planning to split up and begin our search," said Casey. "Any news on Larkin?"

"I have no intention of pulling Agent Larkin out of deep cover to appease an asset. Your orders have not changed, Agent Casey."

Casey sighed slightly. "Understood."

"Is there a problem, Agent Casey?"

He hesitated a moment. Technically, he should probably tell her that he was having some reservations about his assignment, but he still felt that he could complete the mission, regardless of his feelings about Chuck. "No, General."

Sarah walked up behind him. "Agents Cole and Watson each had their own vehicle, and you've got a rental," she said, handing him a set of keys. "Any news about Bryce?"

"Unable to contact him," Casey said.

"Oh," said Sarah. They walked out into the parking lot. "Yours is the blue S-10," she said, pointing at the truck. "You'll let me know if Chuck calls?"

"Yeah," replied Casey.

Sarah looked at Watson, who was pulling out of the lot. "Are these guys any good?"

"Watson is solid, but I don't know Agent Cole personally, his record is good, though," he said.

"I hope they don't do something stupid, like get Chuck killed," she said.

Casey did a double-take, and felt his mouth go dry. Sarah wasn't even looking at him, however. She was looking at Cole with a frown on her face. He reminded her of someone she had seen recently, but she couldn't quite make a connection. She turned and got into her car and Casey got into his.

Pete Cole watched as Casey and Sarah talked in the parking lot. His phone rang. "Yes, General?" he said. He listened for a moment. "The CIA chick is no problem, but Casey has a rep for being…difficult. We are beginning the search for Bartowski, but we probably won't find him until tomorrow at the soonest. What's so special about this guy, anyhow?" He pulled a cigarette from his pocket. "Fine, I'll contact you when I have him."


	9. Run, Forrest, Run!

Run, Forrest, Run!

Chuck awakened early, having tossed and turned on the lumpy couch, haunted by dreams of falling into darkness. Daylight was just breaking, and he noticed a thin layer of snow on the ground when he looked out the window. He walked around and blew out the remaining lit candles; most had extinguished themselves during the night. He ate a piece of jerky and placed his cell on a small table near the couch. He looked at the phone and thought about what he would say to Casey. He would rather speak to Sarah, but he figured that Beckman was already getting suspicious about his feelings for Sarah, and he didn't want her to be in the position of defending herself to the general. Besides, if there was any fallout, he was confident that Casey could handle it with ease.

He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders; it was so cold he could see his breath in the air. He rubbed his chin and remembered he forgot to pack a razor. Like that matters now, he thought. He picked up the phone and realized that his hands were shaking, and not just from the cold. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he turned on the phone and dialed Casey.

"Casey." The voice on the phone sounded tired to Chuck, and he felt a pang of guilt.

"It's me," Chuck said.

"Where the hell are you, Bartowski?" Casey nearly shouted into the phone. Although Casey was angry, he also felt relieved to finally be hearing Chuck's voice.

"I'm sorry, Casey, truly sorry," Chuck said. "Have you heard from Bryce?"

"Yeah, Chuck, give me your location and he'll come for you," Casey lied.

"Okay," Chuck licked his dry lips nervously and gave the directions to Casey. "Are you coming, too?" he asked.

"Yeah, but don't worry, I'll let you have your time with Larkin first."

"Thanks, Casey, I owe you one… or twenty or fifty."

"Expect Larkin in about ten minutes or so, he stayed overnight in Rosemont." Casey hung up. So far, so good, he thought. His phone rang again.

"Casey."

"Hi Casey, it's Sarah, have you heard from Chuck yet?" she asked.

"Nope, looks like Rosemont is a bust," he replied. "I'm going to head back to Ferndale. I'll drive slow and check out any cabins or campgrounds between here and there."

"There's nothing in Homestead, either. I'll do the same and see you in Ferndale."

"Roger that."

Damn it, thought Sarah, where the heck was Chuck? She spoke with Agent Cole and Agent Watson an hour ago, neither had found anything and said they would meet her in Ferndale. She had called Casey from her car, and had arrived at the intersection with Washington Road. She thought for a moment, then turned north toward Rosemont instead of taking the road back to Ferndale. She could examine the roadside from this end and meet Casey in the middle.

***

Casey turned on his windshield wipers as he drove; it had started to snow quite heavily. He followed Chuck's directions and found the dirt track leading to the cabin, nearly obscured by the morning snowfall. He pulled the truck over and parked it off to the side of the road when he realized that the track was littered with tree limbs and brush. After getting out of the truck, he pulled out his gun and zipped up his coat. Taking the safety off his gun, he started to climb the hill.

***

Meanwhile, back at the cabin, Chuck was getting prepared. Although he trusted Casey about Bryce, he wasn't going to take any chances. Turning his phone on meant that others could track his location, even though the phone had only been on long enough for his short conversation with Casey. He decided to leave his bag in the cabin and climbed out the window, which finally opened after a few moments of desperate pushing and a bit of cursing. Chuck walked around to the side of the cabin and spied a good hiding place in a small thicket of bushes. Upon reaching the bushes, he realized with dismay that he was leaving footprints in the snow. Too late now, he thought, he could only hope that the falling snow would cover them in time.

***

Casey crested the hilltop and immediately spotted the cabin. He glanced around and determined that no one else was present. He moved quickly toward the cabin, staying as close to the side of the trail as possible, delaying the moment when Chuck realized it was him and not Larkin approaching.

***

From his hiding place, Chuck watched a man approach the cabin, and he nearly called out Bryce's name before noticing that the man had a gun drawn. Blinking snowflakes from his eyes, Chuck tried to identify the man before he reached the cabin. The man stopped short of the cabin to look around at the forest. As he turned toward Chuck with gun in hand, Chuck flashed. He saw Casey with an AK-47 and dressed in tan camouflage, shooting at several men across a sandy beach. Chuck blinked rapidly as the man moved toward the cabin door and out of Chuck's line of vision. Casey, Chuck thought. Casey with a gun. Suddenly it dawned on him that Beckman might not be satisfied with his capture; that maybe she would want him dead. She sent Casey for him. Chuck's stomach rolled and he felt a squeezing pressure in his chest. At first, he thought he was frozen in panic, but then his feet started moving and soon he was running in the snow. He heard a loud crack as Casey shot the padlock on the cabin door. Run, Forrest, run, he thought crazily, slipping through the deepening snow.

***

That's Casey's rental, Sarah thought, parking her car in front of it. Not seeing Casey in the truck, she figured he was investigating the snow-covered trail off to the side. She had searched three such trails with no luck. Passing the time, she reached into the backseat and pulled out her laptop. Something about Agent Cole was nagging at the back of her mind, and she used her password to link to the Castle computer. Glancing at the trail to look for Casey, she settled back in her seat and pulled up the Fulcrum agent files they had recovered a month ago. She started flipping through pictures.

***

Agents Cole and Watson had met up in Ferndale and were waiting in Cole's truck when his phone rang.

"Hello?" he said. "I'm on it." He turned to Watson. "Bartowski used his cell, we have a location near Rosemont."

"Let's go," said Watson.

Cole shifted the truck into gear and headed toward Rosemont.

***

Casey cursed under his breath. This was the right place, Chuck's bag was inside. But where the hell was he? He stepped onto the porch, searching the ground for clues. On the porch, beneath the window, he found footprints, mostly covered by the falling snow. Casey was an excellent tracker, however, and he found that he could pick out enough disturbances in the snow to follow the trail. He followed it to the bushes where Chuck had been hiding. On the other side of the bushes, Chuck's footprints were plainly visible, heading deep into the forest. Casey cursed again and began running at a steady, controlled pace after Chuck.

***

Chuck stopped, hands on his knees, as he struggled for breath. The cold air seared through his lungs like a hot poker. Why didn't he take Devon's suggestion to start an exercise program? It wouldn't have made a difference; Casey is going to catch up sooner or later, he thought. Probably sooner. This is stupid, he thought. Why should I run? There's nowhere to go. Fat snowflakes floated down on his head; he noticed the stillness of the forest. Sounds were muted by the snow and only the cold clacking of tree limbs could be heard.

"Hey, Chuck,"said Casey, who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Chuck slowly straightened. "Hey, Casey," he replied, still trying to catch his breath. "Nice day for a run."

"Yeah," said Casey, approaching Chuck. He kept his gun aimed at the ground. Chuck took a few steps back and tripped over a large rock. He lay there on his back as Casey walked up. The snowfall lessened, and an owl hooted in the distance. Chuck didn't try to blink back the hot tears as they came. He was never going to see Ellie again. He would never find out if Sarah loved him.

"Sorry, Chuck," said Casey.

"Yeah, well, I'm glad it's you, Casey. I mean that." Chuck closed his eyes and took a deep breath as Casey pointed the gun at his head. He heard the owl hooting again and smiled, suddenly unafraid.

Casey pulled the trigger.


	10. Game Over

Game Over

Chuck's entire body had tensed with the sound of Casey's gun and his right ear was ringing. A small hole bored into the snow next to his head.

"Chuck," Casey's low voice spoke urgently. He knelt down and placed his hand on Chuck's chest.

Chuck realized he was still holding his breath and let it out in a whoosh. He opened his eyes cautiously and saw Casey looking down on him.

"Um, Casey, I think you missed," he said in a shaky voice.

"No shit, Sherlock," said Casey. "Keep your ass right where it is, don't move an inch," he warned Chuck. He pulled out his cell phone and stood up.

"You didn't kill me," said Chuck softly.

"Don't make me change my mind, Bartowski. You keep still and don't make a sound." Casey dialed a number on his cell and walked a few steps away while Chuck tried not to breathe in an attempt to comply with Casey's demand.

"This is Casey. I nailed the asset. Will take a photo and clean the area personally." He hung up without waiting to hear a response. He looked toward the hill; did he just hear a vehicle's engine? He had to act fast if he was going to do anything at all. What was he going to do? He certainly didn't expect to be in this situation. He was ready to kill Chuck, but even as he pulled the trigger, doubt had crept into his mind and his hand veered slightly left as he fired. This had never happened before. He never even imagined it could happen. His mind raced and he diverted his thoughts to the task at hand; he could dwell on his indecision later. A small idea began to take form, and he glanced over at Chuck. The poor guy was probably scared to death.

Chuck watched Casey approach him, wondering if maybe Casey changed his mind. He still couldn't believe it. He thought, no, he _knew_ that Casey would kill him. He wasn't ready to die, but he didn't see how he could have avoided it. He figured it was best to just let Casey get it done. Game over. For the first time since Casey pulled the trigger, Chuck began to realize how very glad he was to be alive. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to say to his family and friends. That thought was quickly replaced by thoughts of what Beckman was going to do; she was probably going to send someone else to finish the job.

Casey stood next to Chuck and pulled out a large knife from his inside jacket pocket. Chuck's eyes widened in surprise as Casey cut one of the fingers on his left hand. He knelt beside Chuck and applied blood to a small area on the right side of Chuck's forehead, and then he allowed a few large droplets to fall in the snow around Chuck's head. He stood up and nodded in satisfaction. "Close your eyes," he told Chuck, holding out his cell phone. He moved the phone as he took the shot, hoping the slight blur would cover up his poor job of making Chuck look dead.

Chuck closed his eyes, realizing what Casey was trying to do. Relief flooded through his body and he held back an overwhelming urge to cry.

"Crap," said Casey. Chuck opened his eyes and watched as Casey listened to his phone. Casey had already forwarded the picture to Beckman's office and then he noticed he had messages. "Watson and Cole are on their way, probably here now," he told Chuck. He listened to a second message. "Crap!" Walker's here, too!"

"Sarah?" said Chuck, hopefully, wondering if she could forgive him for running away.

Casey gave Chuck a fierce look. "You have to agree that you will do everything I say, no matter what. I don't care if Walker comes screaming down that hill with her hair on fire, you will do as I say, Bartowski."

Chuck met Casey's steady gaze. "I will do whatever you tell me to do Casey, I swear it." Chuck meant it. Heck, it was the least he could do, considering Casey just saved his life. He just hoped the gunplay was over.

***

Sarah sat in her car waiting for Casey, clicking through Fulcrum agent dossiers. She stared transfixed for a moment at one of the agents, a man named Joseph Youngblood who sported a crooked nose and wavy blonde hair. It was his eyes that had her transfixed. She was looking at Agent Cole. Impossible, she thought to herself. Cole had a dark buzz-cut and a short brown beard, and, his nose was straight. Besides, Beckman must trust him; she chose him to escort one of the country's most top-secret assets. And yet…the eyes were the same, unmistakable. She accessed another database and queried Peter Cole. A man's face appeared on the screen. It was not the same man she met at the deli yesterday. What the hell is going on, she thought.

As she prepared to call Casey, a green Silverado pulled up behind her vehicle. Agents Cole and Watson got out and walked up to Sarah's window. She rolled it down, placing her right hand on her gun, which was resting in a console cubby.

"We got a location on your asset. He used his cell," said Watson.

"What?" asked Sarah. "Chuck is here?" She was incredulous.

"Looks like it," said Watson, looking at Casey's truck. "Where's Casey?"

"He's checking out that trail, but he's been gone a while," she said. She was at a loss as to handling Agent Cole. She couldn't be certain of Agent Watson, either. And why didn't Casey let her know that Chuck called? She got out of the car. "Let's go," she said, starting down the trail. Cole could wait for now. She needed time to figure out what was going on.

Cole glanced into her car as he passed it; he saw the open laptop and frowned.

The trio of agents crested the hill and spotted the cabin. Sarah reached it first, noting that the lock had been destroyed by gunfire. Ducking inside with her gun drawn, she found Chuck's bag. She stepped back out onto the porch and surveyed the area. "Chuck was here, but he's not now, and there's no sign of Casey."

This doesn't make sense, Sarah thought. She was growing more concerned by the minute. Casey must have found Chuck, but why weren't they here? Would Chuck have run from Casey? She didn't know. It was as if she didn't know Chuck at all. She never would have guessed that he would have run in the first place, especially without talking to her about it. As much as she was worried about Chuck, she was also angry. On the video, he said he trusted her; but obviously he didn't. Chuck was her closest, best friend, and she knew that he wanted more. Heck, lately, she thought that maybe she wanted more. Then why run? Gods! She was going in circles trying to reason it out.

"Over here." Cole's voice shook Sarah from her thoughts. Cole was examining some bushes by the side of the cabin. She and Agent Watson joined him.

"Two sets of prints, nearly covered by the snow. They can't be that far away given the amount of snowfall during the last half-hour," he said.

All three agents looked toward the forest as they heard a short pop, muffled by the snowy landscape.

Shit, thought Sarah, as she ran into the woods, following the footprints. Would Casey hurt Chuck? He might if he was ordered by Beckman. She stopped running suddenly; the footprints had disappeared completely under the falling snow. Without speaking, the agents fanned out and moved toward the direction of the gunshot. As hard as it was to keep from running to Chuck, she hung back, keeping Agent Cole within her sight. She toyed with the idea of capping one of his knees, but worried about Watson's reaction. She focused on her footing as the landscape sloped upward. Keep it together, she told herself.

***

"They're probably tracking us," said Casey. He looked at Chuck, who lay shivering on the ground. "You're going to have be dead for a while."

"Okay," Chuck said, his teeth chattering.

"You've got to keep still," Casey reminded Chuck.

"I'm too friggin' cold right now, I can't help it," said Chuck, bracing himself for an angry comment from his handler.

Instead, Casey removed his coat and laid it over Chuck's head and upper body. Chuck's shivering was no longer noticeable from a distance. "Keep your mouth shut Chuck, no matter what you hear, or it will be the last thing you hear," Casey warned.

Chuck remained silent, and Casey was satisfied.

Casey turned and saw movement along the upper tree line. He heard Watson shout, "Over here." Watson, Cole and then Sarah crested the slope and moved toward Casey. This has to work, thought Casey. If it doesn't, Chuck will end up dead after all.


	11. Rage

Rage

Casey steeled himself mentally as the agents slid down the slope toward him. This is not going to work, he thought.

Grateful as he was for the warmth of Casey's coat, Chuck couldn't stand not being able to see anything. He slowly moved his left arm and rested it on his chest; by lifting his hand a couple of inches, he was able to form a small tent under the coat, the edge of which lifted enough to let him peer out from under it. He could only see Casey from the waist down, but he didn't want to lift the coat any higher and risk detection. This was bad. He was supposed to let Sarah think he was dead? Was that Casey's brilliant plan? This is not going to work, he thought, as Casey walked out of his line of sight.

Casey held up a hand as the agents approached. "It's over," he said. "The asset has been eliminated."

Cole and Watson stopped when they reached Casey. Sarah pushed past Casey and ran over to Chuck. She leaned over to remove Casey's coat.

"You don't want to see that, Walker," Casey warned.

Sarah looked at the blood-spattered snow and then straightened, leaving the coat untouched. She turned toward Casey and raised her gun. She blinked hard to clear her vision. "You killed him." It wasn't a question.

"Orders," said Casey.

Agents Cole and Watson backed away from Casey, drawing their guns and aiming at Sarah.

"You don't need to do that," Casey told them, keeping his eyes on Sarah. "Put the guns away."

Cole looked at Watson, who nodded his head; both men tucked their guns away. Watson decided that this was personal; Casey had a right to handle it himself.

Beneath the coat, Chuck was panicking. Sarah stood close to him, only a few inches away. He could reach out and touch her if he wanted. Stay calm, he told himself, Casey knows what he's doing.

Sarah's mind was reeling from shock and disbelief. Chuck was dead. Right at this moment, she realized what she felt for him, and it hit her like a punch in the gut. How many times had she rejected him? She had always pushed him away to a safe distance, reasoning that it was unprofessional to explore her feelings for him. The truth was, she was afraid to find out. Now she knew and Chuck was dead. Because of Casey. The profound sense of loss slowly faded as pure rage surged forward. Her eyes narrowed and she cocked her gun, aiming for Casey's heart.

Casey's eyes widened slightly. I _knew_ this wasn't going to work, he thought.

Chuck didn't think; he simply reacted when he heard the click of Sarah's gun. He reached out with his hand and grabbed Sarah's ankle, pulling with all his remaining strength. Sarah fell forward into the snow as her gun went off. Casey stumbled backward as the bullet passed through his arm.

Cole and Watson stood dumbfounded as Chuck used a handful of snow to wipe the blood off his forehead. He crawled over to Sarah.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

She sat up, wondering if maybe she hit her head or something. "Chuck," she said hesitantly.

"Yeah, it's me," he said, giving her one of his goofy half-smiles before fainting and collapsing into her lap.

He woke up a moment later, finding his head cradled in Sarah's arms. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, just a little dizzy" he said, sitting up. "It was all the excitement, I guess." He focused on Sarah's face, afraid that if he looked anywhere else he would see a very angry John Casey.

"Just what is this all about, Casey?" demanded Watson.

Casey gripped his injured arm, which was just a flesh wound. Lucky, he thought. He watched as Sarah and Chuck talked. It was hard to stay mad at him when he considered what would have happened if Chuck had kept his promise to stay quiet. He knew Sarah would be upset, but he had underestimated the depth of her anger.

"You don't have the full story," began Casey.

"That's right," Sarah interrupted, standing up and giving Casey a warning look.

"This mission wasn't about Chuck at all; I mean, yeah, he does some computer work now and then, and he enhanced one of our GPS devices, but that's it. You see, we found out that Fulcrum was sniffing around Chuck due to Chuck's past civilian association with a rogue agent, Bryce Larkin. There's actually no connection, but Fulcrum didn't know that. So, we allowed Fulcrum to think that Chuck was more important than he was in an effort to draw out their agents. It worked really well last month." She paused and hoped that they were buying into the story.

"And…and I couldn't take the heat anymore, I mean, I was almost killed last time, so I ran," said Chuck. He darted a quick look at Casey as he spoke. "I realized I made a mistake so I called Casey."

Cole spoke up. "So why the playacting? Why make the asset appear to be dead?"

"It was a mistake." Casey struggled for an answer. He certainly wasn't going to tell anyone the truth, at least not right now. "I was suspicious of Beckman's order to kill Bartowski. After all, he was just an asset. I decided to hold off on killing him, and I didn't want anyone to know about it just yet. I had him well in hand, he wasn't going anywhere."

"John Casey, the legendary assassin, couldn't take out a computer geek?" exclaimed an astounded Watson.

"He's only a civilian," snapped Casey. "I didn't want to kill him unjustly; convincing Beckman he was dead would buy me the time to gather more intel. I didn't count on an audience showing up."

Watson thought for a moment. "Funny, I never thought you'd grow a conscience. C'mon Cole, there's nothing left for us to do, unless," Watson turned back to Casey, "you need help taking your asset in?" He smirked.

Casey answered him with a hard stare. Watson and Cole left, making their way up the snowy slope. Cole allowed Watson to walk ahead, waving him on when Watson looked back. He pulled out his cell and dialed.

"It's me." Cole spoke into the phone. "Beckman wanted me to grab this guy, but his handlers are all over him. It doesn't matter for our purposes, anyhow. The guy's connection to Larkin is bogus. They planted the story and used Bartowski as bait." He listened. "My cover is clean, but it's only a matter of time before someone notices that Agent Cole was killed. I want to put some distance between me and this entire mission. Something out of the country would be nice." He pulled out a cigarette. "Fine, I can be there in two." He returned his phone to his jacket and lit his cigarette.

Cole noted that Watson was already in the truck when he reached the road. Passing Sarah's car, he realized she left her window open; the open laptop lay on the seat. He waved at Watson, reached in and retrieved the laptop. The screen was blank; she had shut down whatever she had been doing. Cole remembered the funny look she gave him yesterday at the restaurant. It was probably nothing, but he had to be sure no one blew his cover before his rendezvous. He tossed the laptop back into the car, turned his back to Watson, pulled out his gun and attached the silencer. Hiding the gun under the flap of his open jacket, he turned and walked toward the truck.


	12. Diamonds

Diamonds

Sarah noticed that Cole was using his phone as she picked up Casey's coat and helped him maneuver his injured arm into the sleeve. "Is it bad?" she asked him.

Casey grunted. "Just a flesh wound, barely bleeding."

"Casey, I am so sorry for that," Sarah began, "I saw Chuck laying there and I couldn't even think straight. We've been protecting him for so long," she faltered.

"Apology accepted," Casey said, "Now we've got figure how to get out of this mess."

It was obvious to Sarah that Casey considered the matter settled; she knew he was uncomfortable expressing emotions, but that simple statement spoke volumes; she was forgiven. Her respect for Casey increased tenfold and she vowed to make it up to him somehow.

Chuck tried to stand and his legs buckled beneath him. Casey walked over and grabbed the back of Chuck's Buy More jacket, hauling him up to his feet. "We gotta get him warm," Casey said, "he's been out here for at least an hour."

Chuck walked between them with one arm around Casey and the other around Sarah. Halfway up the slope, he stopped to catch his breath. "Won't they call Beckman?" he asked. He was feeling warmer from the exertion of climbing.

"Nah," said Casey. "They'll figure it will be more humiliating when I do it."

Chuck cringed. He had caused a lot of trouble for Casey, and he was just now starting to appreciate the complexity of the situation.

"What were you really planning to do, Casey?" asked Sarah, as they resumed their climb.

Casey looked over at her. "I don't know," said Casey tiredly. "Maybe let him run."

Chuck's mouth fell open as he looked at Casey.

"Maybe kill him later," he added. Chuck promptly closed his mouth and looked straight ahead.

"What about you, Walker, what was all that talk about luring Fulcrum to Chuck?"

"Cole is Fulcrum."

"What?" exclaimed Casey. "And you let him go?" The cabin came into view as they reached the top of the slope and started down.

"Yes, with the knowledge that Chuck was simply a means to bait Fulcrum agents."

"Smart thinking, Walker."

"What's smart about it?" asked Chuck. He was glad his friends were talking like they always did; he wasn't sure how mad Casey would be after Sarah shot him.

"It means that we bought you some extra time to live at home, Chuck. Cole will tell his superiors that you're not valuable," explained Sarah patiently.

"Oh."

"In fact," she continued, "I saw him on the phone as he left."

***

Cole got in the passenger side of the truck.

"Ready to go?" asked Watson, starting the truck.

"Yeah," said Cole, pulling out his gun and shooting Watson in the head. Cole shut off the engine, climbed out of the truck, and pulled Watson's body down across the seats; no one would see it unless they walked up to the window and looked inside. He started walking quickly toward the cabin, keeping within the trees and staying about 10 yards from the dirt track. His plan was simple: he would flank his unsuspecting targets and then bam, bam, bam, three dead witnesses. He would have to be careful setting up the ambush, however; even though Casey was wounded, the guy _was_ legendary. He wasn't worried about the girl or the kid, they would be easy. He tossed his cigarette to the ground.

***

When they reached the cabin, Sarah went inside to retrieve Chuck's bag. Standing outside with Casey, Chuck tried to think of something to say to him, but everything he could come up with seemed lame. He was too tired, he told himself. He would talk to him tomorrow, if Casey would listen to him.

Inside the cabin, Sarah felt the hairs on her neck stand up. She stood still in the middle of the room, trying to find the reason for her sudden intuition. She had learned to trust it years ago, and it rarely steered her wrong. She walked to the porch and scanned the area carefully, but noticed nothing. Casey, noting her behavior, was also looking over the landscape. Maybe it was just her nerves, she thought, finally getting jittery after seeing Chuck dead. She stood and watched as Casey and Chuck continued walking toward the cars, parked just over that last steep hill. Then she saw a reflective flash in the tree line, about ten yards out, and she narrowed her eyes. It could be the snow, or a metal sign, or even an icicle, she thought, shading her eyes and searching for the source. A slight movement caught her eye. Even as she called Casey's name, she was running toward the movement with her gun drawn.

"Casey!"

Casey looked up as Sarah yelled, and he saw her running toward the tree line.

"Down, Chuck!" he said. Even as he turned to shove Chuck down, he heard a soft zing, followed by a bright flare of pain in his shoulder, on the same side as his injured arm. He fell with Chuck, and they both lay flat against the snow. As Casey listened to Chuck's panicked breathing, he couldn't help but think that this was just not his day.

"Um, Casey?" said Chuck.

"You should run Chuck, as soon as you hear Walker fire her gun."

Keeping his body as close to the ground as possible, Chuck turned so that he faced Casey. "How bad is it?" he asked.

Casey unzipped his jacket and peeked at the wound; a dark circle of blood was slowly spreading on his shirt. "Not too bad," he said. "You need to run, Chuck," he repeated, handing Chuck the keys to his S-10.

Chuck looked at the woods where Sarah had disappeared. The sun had moved higher, filtering down through the trees. In some places the snow was like a spray of tiny diamonds, lit up by sunshine. It was so beautiful, he thought. Adrenaline surged in his blood, and he felt stronger. He made his decision.

"Casey," Chuck said, making sure he had eye contact before continuing. "I'm not running, at least not today."

"Chuck," Casey began angrily.

"No, Casey, hear me out. I'm not running. You and Sarah have saved me so many times, I've lost count. I want to be more than someone who needs constant protection; I need to be part of the team. Now, you can waste time yelling at me, or you can figure out a way to get us all out of here."

Chuck finished speaking and looked away, hoping that Casey wasn't regretting his decision to let him live. He had to make a stand some time, and now was as good as any. He saw now that running away had been a foolish mistake. In fact, he should have told Casey and Sarah about Beckman's snowman operation in the first place. From day one, Sarah asked him to trust her. Again and again he failed her. He recalled Sarah asking him if he was ready to be a hero, and he said yes; but secretly, he knew he couldn't be that hero. He had screwed up everything in his life, and he knew that he would eventually let everyone down. He realized now that it wasn't about his being a hero, it was about working with two people, people that he admired, to make a difference, no matter how small or large. All along, he had been thinking that his life within the spy world was more or less a sham, and that living a real life, a normal life, meant working at the Buy More, maybe starting a new career, and getting married someday. He saw now that it was the complete opposite; his life with Sarah and Casey was real, and now he realized that it was the life he wanted for himself. Sure, he could work on his career and maybe get married, but those things were not part of some separate, 'normal' life; he didn't have to cross some imaginary line in order to obtain them. And as much as Casey and Sarah believed that they lived in a tightly confined box, and that to step outside meant risking their lives and the lives of people around them, Chuck knew differently. He only hoped that he would have the chance to show them before Beckman had him killed or bunkerized.

"Chuck," said Casey, breaking Chuck from his reverie.

"Look, Casey, I'm not changing my mind," Chuck began.

Casey interrupted him. "Take this," he ordered, handing Chuck his gun. "And _this_ time, you do as I say."


	13. Terminator

Terminator

Chuck gingerly accepted the gun from Casey. "In case you think I've turned into a super spy and will run out there guns blazing, you should know that you are going to be very disappointed."

"Of course not, moron," said Casey. "I want you to run to the road and get behind the shooter, it has to be Cole."

"What about that other guy?" asked Chuck.

"I can't believe Watson is in on it, and so far, we've only had one shooter. Anyhow, if Watson was in on it, he would have come up behind us and we wouldn't be talking right now."

Chuck gulped. "So then what do I do?"

"One of two things: if he sees you first and takes a shot, run like hell. If you see him first, you take a shot and run like hell."

Chuck looked at the gun in his hand.

"Look," said Casey, "you don't have to hit him; you just need to distract him long enough for Walker to do her job."

Chuck nodded and started moving toward the road, keeping low to the ground.

"And Chuck," Casey called softly. "You can use the gun for self-defense, if it comes to that."

Chuck didn't answer him. He climbed up the steep hill to the cars, running from tree to tree for cover. He hoped wouldn't come to that, having to shoot someone. As he passed the line of vehicles along the road, he glanced into the last truck and saw the body lying inside. That must be Watson, he thought. Don't freak out, he reminded himself. He walked around the back of the truck and saw Cole's footprints entering the woods. He walked a bit farther and then turned into the forest.

***

Cole watched as Chuck ran up the hill and was unconcerned. The geek was the least of his problems; he would catch up with him after he took care of Walker. Casey hadn't moved; he was probably hit bad or dead. As for Walker, he knew that she was close, but he couldn't pinpoint her location. It was a stalemate until someone revealed their position. Cole cursed silently; he wasn't going to make that two-hour deadline.

***

Chuck walked as quietly as possible as he neared where he thought Cole might be waiting. The snow had begun to melt under the sun and he as slid down a short slope, a branch cracked underfoot. Chuck watched as Cole stepped out from behind a tree and aimed his gun. He dropped to the ground and cringed as he heard a loud crack.

"Chuck?" Sarah called out.

Chuck lifted his head and realized that he wasn't shot; Sarah got to Cole before he could pull the trigger. She walked toward Chuck, pausing momentarily at Cole's body to make sure he was dead. When she reached Chuck, he stood and grabbed her close to him in a huge hug.

"Are you okay, Chuck?" she asked, returning his hug.

"Yeah, but Casey's been shot…again," he added. He handed her Casey's gun. "I don't think I'll ever be ready to carry one of these."

"You don't have to carry a gun, Chuck, you're strengths lie in other areas. Casey and I don't need you to be another version of us; we need you to be Chuck." She looked into his eyes for a moment. "Let's get out of here," she said, pulling out her cell phone and dialing as she walked toward Casey.

Chuck followed her slowly, suddenly feeling exhausted.

***

After a couple hours of sleep in a cot in the corner, Chuck woke up and wished he could be in his own bed. He counted himself lucky, though, that Beckman had agreed to let Chuck stay at Castle under Sarah's watchful eye while she decided whether or not to send him to a bunker. Once the cavalry had arrived in Rosemont, both Sarah and Casey had argued forcefully for Chuck to be brought to Castle. Casey was then taken to a government clinic for his wounds.

He sat up and spotted Sarah dozing in a chair in front of the computer. He rubbed his eyes absently as he watched her sleep. He wanted to walk up to her and brush that bit of hair hanging over her eyes back over her ear. Despite the hug in the forest, though, he knew she was angry with him, and rightly so, he decided. Looking back, he wondered why she put up with him at all. It seemed like he was always screwing things up and hurting her somehow. Suddenly he realized that her eyes were open.

"Hey," she said softly, stretching her arms upward.

"Hey," he said.

"I got some hot chocolate a little while ago, it's still warm," she said, gesturing toward a Styrofoam cup on the desk.

Chuck got up and drank the hot chocolate quickly, relishing the warmth. "Thanks." He gave her a quick smile. "Um, Sarah, I wanted to talk to you about…"

She interrupted him. "Casey is on his way; we have a briefing in ten."

"Oh." Chuck sat down in a chair slightly behind Sarah and looked up as Casey entered; his left arm was in a cloth sling and he looked paler than usual.

"What are you, a terminator?" asked Chuck, as Casey sat beside Sarah.

Casey grunted in response and tapped a key on the keyboard. General Beckman's face appeared.

"Shouldn't he be in a hospital?" whispered Chuck.

"Not now," Sarah whispered back.

"Agent Casey, I have read your report and recommendations. I have decided not pursue disciplinary action at this time, pending further review."

Chuck breathed a sigh of relief; he was glad Casey wasn't going to be punished for not following orders.

"Mr. Bartowski," Beckman continued, "I can make some allowance for your behavior considering your civilian status; however, the fact remains that you disregarded my instructions and placed yourself and Agents Casey and Walker at risk by running off."

"I know," said Chuck quietly.

"What must be done to ensure that it won't happen again?" she asked.

Chuck took a deep breath and looked down. "I think it's time I went to the bunker." There, he said it. It wasn't what he wanted, but maybe it was best, especially for Casey and Sarah.

"Really," said Beckman. "Would you like to hear Agent Casey's recommendation?"

Chuck looked up in surprise. "Yes, I would."

"He believes that the Intersect could not be used efficiently within the confines of a bunker, and I'm inclined to agree. He told me that you are ready to step it up a level, by becoming more of an operative than an asset. Is that true?"

Chuck swallowed hard. Don't screw it up, he told himself. "When all this first began, I hated it. I hated that Bryce sent the Intersect to me. I wanted more than anything to just have my old life back. I tried to hang on to it and some people got hurt in the process." He gave Sarah a quick look. "But now," he paused. "But now, I've realized that I want to help people, and having the Intersect is more of a gift than a curse. I think I've grown past the stage where Casey and Sarah are simply keeping me out of trouble and we only take on missions when I flash during random encounters with the bad guys. I would like to take a more active role; I want to pursue missions, as opposed to having the missions pursue me. I guess what I really want, General, is the opportunity to prove, with guidance from Casey and Sarah, that I can be a real member of this team." Chuck lowered his eyes and waited anxiously for the General's response.

Beckman was quiet for a moment, and then she spoke. "I am prepared to offer you that opportunity, with some provision. I expect you to stay close to your handlers… I mean, to the other members of your team from now on. If you attempt to run again, or deceive me or your team, you will be sorry," she finished, using her most severe tone of voice. The screen went blank.

Chuck sat still for a moment, shocked that he wasn't being thrown into a bunker. "So what happens now?" he asked.

"You go home and get some sleep. I already called in your excuse to Big Mike for missing yesterday and today, you have to be there tomorrow," said Casey.

"But what about Fulcrum?" Chuck asked.

Sarah stood up. "It was determined that it was Cole, or really, Youngblood, who tried to send that message we intercepted last week. We are assuming that he told his superiors that you were being used as bait. Regardless, we will be increasing our surveillance of the Buy More and your apartment, just in case." She headed up the steps. "See you tomorrow, Chuck."

"But Sarah," Chuck said, getting up from his chair, "I really wanted to talk to you."

"Tomorrow, Chuck," she said as she left.

"Let's go, I could use some shut-eye myself." Casey pushed Chuck gently toward the stairs.

They took the herder home; Chuck insisted on driving and Casey was too tired to argue. As Chuck shut off the engine, he decided he should try to say something to Casey, even if it was lame.

"Casey, wait a minute, will you?" he asked.

Casey turned to face him. "What now, Bartowski?" he said impatiently.

Chuck almost changed his mind, but he decided to forge ahead. "I wanted to thank you, for saving my life, twice in the same day, and for keeping me out of the bunker. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you. Look, I know going against Beckman's order was tough for you. I just have to know, why did you do it?"

Casey had asked himself that very question, several times already.

"Never mind, Casey," Chuck said suddenly. "You certainly don't owe me any answers."

"No, I do have an answer." Casey chose his words carefully. "I operate in a world where right and wrong have always been defined for me. I've never had reason to question it, until you stumbled into my life. Even as I pulled the trigger, I knew, I _felt_, that it was wrong." Casey held out his hand to Chuck.

The gesture surprised Chuck, but he only hesitated a moment before shaking Casey's hand briefly.

"You'd better not be late tomorrow," Casey said in a gruff tone as he exited the car.


	14. Sarah

Sarah

Casey knocked on Chuck's door at nine the next morning. He was wearing his Buy More jacket and a black sling for his left arm.

"Oh, hi John," said Ellie, opening the door. "What happened to your arm?"

"Dirt bike," Casey answered. "Tore up my shoulder. Nothing permanent, though."

"And Big Mike won't let you off for that?" she asked.

"Actually, I wanted to work," Casey said, as Chuck came up behind Ellie. "It's a sit-down position, working the customer complaints department."

Chuck squeezed past Ellie to join Casey.

"That's great, John," Ellie said with a smile. "You have the perfect personality for that type of work."

Chuck nearly laughed out loud, and he turned red as he had a coughing spell. "Sorry, sis, swallowed wrong."

Casey grunted. "Thanks," he said to Ellie, as he and Chuck walked out to the herder.

Casey drove, and Chuck had to admit that the injured arm didn't affect his driving in the least. As they passed the Buy More, Chuck asked, "Where are we going?"

Casey remained silent, and Chuck settled back for the ride. He didn't really want to go back to work yet, and any type of delay was fine with him.

Casey pulled into the park located a few blocks from Sarah's hotel. Chuck spotted Sarah sitting on a park bench, throwing bread crumbs to a few pigeons.

"Walker will take you to work this morning," said Casey.

"She wants to take me to work?" asked Chuck.

"Looks like you've got that chance to talk, Romeo," said Casey. "Now get out."

Chuck walked over to Sarah slowly, gathering his thoughts. He found himself utterly distracted, however; Sarah was wearing a light blue cardigan with brown slacks. Her eyes fairly sparkled in the sun. When she smiled at him, he believed that he could just melt into the sidewalk. It took some effort to keep his legs from wobbling, and he was relieved to finally sit down next to her. "Hey," he said, giving her a shy smile.

"Here," she said, handing him a piece of bread. They sat quietly for a few minutes, feeding the birds. The snow had melted, and the day had already started to warm up.

"So," she started, "you said you wanted to talk?"

Great, thought Chuck, she's throwing the ball into my court and I don't even know where to begin. He sighed and watched the birds fighting over the last of the breadcrumbs. He fumbled with his tie nervously.

Sarah watched him struggle for words and shook her head with amusement. "Okay, Chuck, I'll start. I think you know why I'm upset."

"I know, Sarah," Chuck blurted out. "I was an idiot. I don't know why I just didn't come to you when General Beckman first called me. I was worried about getting you and Casey into trouble. I know I should have trusted you. I won't ask you to forgive me, but I do want to ask for another chance." He looked at her. "I know, you've given me like a hundred chances already, but I feel different about it this time." He returned his gaze to the birds. "I can't stand this."

"Stand what?" she asked.

"Having you mad at me. Sarah, I..." He stopped himself.

"Chuck, I was pretty mad, but I think you had your reasons, and I know you've been struggling with trying to find some sort of balance in your life," she said. "There's actually another reason I wanted to see you this morning."

"You mean you're not mad at me?" asked Chuck, his spirits lifting.

"Not so much." She picked up his hand and held it.

Although he was surprised, Chuck felt that holding her hand was the most natural thing in the world. He gave her a smile.

"I wanted to talk about my feelings…, my feelings for you, Chuck." She turned so that she faced him.

Chuck met her gaze and felt his heart rate pick up. Just let her talk, he told himself.

"When I saw you on the ground, dead, it was like the earth just opened up and swallowed me whole. It hurt so bad; it was a physical pain in my chest. I've never felt pain like that before."

Chuck felt tears spring to his eyes as he realized how much he hurt her. He took her other hand and gripped it tightly.

"I realized then what I felt for you, Chuck, and how deeply I felt it."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Sarah, I know I haven't always shown it, but I feel the same way," said Chuck.

"Chuck, this is new for me, and I feel like I need to find my own sense of balance. I'm not ready to say anything more," she paused, looking down at their linked hands. "Maybe someday, but not today. Can you live with that?"

Chuck let go of one of her hands and brushed the single tear from her cheek. She lifted her eyes to look at him.

"Sarah, I can live forever knowing that I have you," he said, blinking back his own tears. "Let's go for a walk," he said.

They stood up and linked hands as they walked. The sun shone brightly from the sky and a flock of chirping sparrows flew past them. Sarah looked at Chuck.

"It's such a perfect day," she said with a smile.

The End

**Author's Note:** I would like to thank all of the readers and reviewers who have given me encouragement, enthusiasm, and critique while I was writing this story. I would like to particularly acknowledge the following readers for their support: Aardvark7734, anon4utu, Kryptonian250, londonwriting, and Switters782. Oh, you can figure out which song was playing in my mind when I wrote the last chapter, if you know the song, that is.


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